Hard as Dragon Scales
by BlueWillow29
Summary: Mithrellas preferred to roam Middle Earth, going wherever the path took her, but never getting lost. When she gets tangled up and losses her way in Frodo's quest, she will have to travel down a different path. While her life of wandering will never be the same, some people will be forever changed. Eventual Legolas/OC, Book 1 of Wanderer Trilogy
1. Tea and Locks

OK! You know the usual speech an author gives up here? The one where the author says this is their first fanfiction? Well, I am skipping that.

On with the new story!

I do not own any of Tolkien's characters and/or names and/or Middle Earth.

Chapter 1- Tea and Locks

_I amar prestar aen…_

The world is changed...

_Han mathon ne nen…_

I feel it in the water...

_Han mathon ne chae…_

I feel it in the Earth...

_A han noston ned gwilith._

I smell it in the air.

Mithrellas pushed a low hanging tree branch out of the way of her head and at the same time, unconsciously stepped over a dry branch. Many years experience of living as a Ranger had kicked in and she moved near silently through the forest while her mind focused on other matters.

She had received her verbal invite to Bilbo's elventy-first birthday party the last time she had come to visit the old hobbit in the Shire. Gandalf had been there as well and the three of them had sat around for days inside Bilbo's cozy hole just reminiscing and sharing stories with Frodo. Some scar comparing had gone on between her and Bilbo at one point, but that had happened only because the hobbit had drank a bit too much ale. That particular event was never mentioned again by either party involved. Frodo, on the other hand, relished the event greatly.

Not far up ahead, she could see where the line of trees thinned out and eventually ended. She would have to start traveling the roads to reach Bag End, her destination. Mithrellas sighed, adjusted her pack, and grudgingly kept a steady pace for the opening. She much preferred the forest. She left the trees behind and made her way through a low and open meadow to a packed dirt road that wove through the Shire.

The sound of young and tinkling laughter reached her ears and after a few minutes, two hobbit children came chasing each other down the road. Mithrellas cracked a smile as they circled around the elf in dark ranger garb, peeking at the other from behind her cloak. They grew tired of the back and forth game and Mithrellas watched them take off again, heading through a small gate in front of a hobbit hole. A smile still clung to her face as she turned and continued on her way.

_'No matter the state of the world,'_ she thought, _'the Shire remains a simple sanctuary locked in time.'_

* * *

A little while later, a strange old man was knocking the end of his staff against a hobbit door.

"No, thank you! We don't want any more visitors, well wishers, or distant relations," a muffled voice yelled from behind a green hobbit door.

Gandalf the Grey smiled to himself slightly and called back, "And what about very old friends?" The perfectly round door was suddenly swung back and revealed a hobbit, who looked every bit the gentleman, looking up at the wizard.

"Gandalf?"

"Bilbo Baggins!" the wizard bellowed in a eccentric voice.

"My dear Gandalf!" Bilbo rushed forward and hugged Gandalf who had dropped to one knee.

"It's good to see you. One hundred and eleven years old, who would believe it!" the wizard looked at the hobbit's face, which was curiously without an abundance of wrinkles, closely. "You haven't aged a day!" he exclaimed in wonderment.

The two old friends laugh and enter through the hobbit's door, Gandalf having to bend double to fit. The wizard instantly looked out of place due to everything being hobbit-sized. He paid careful attention to where his head went.

"Come on, come in! Welcome, welcome!" Bilbo said as he stepped into his hall. He took the wizard's hat and staff and put them out of the way. "Oh, here we are. Tea? Or maybe something a little stronger? I've got a few bottles of the Old Winyard left. 1296 -very good year. Almost as old as I am!" he chuckled as he continued on down the hall and called back to Gandalf, "It was laid down by my father. What say we open one, eh?"

"Just tea, thank you," Gandalf replied, walking at a snail's pace after the hobbit. He managed to bump his head into the parlor's chandelier and reached up to steady it. Thinking it was safe to now move, he took another step and rammed his head right into a wooden beam on the ceiling, uttering a grunt.

Rubbing his throbbing forehead, he looked around with genuine interest at the things hanging on the wall and lying around on tables. A map of the Lonely Mountain in a frame caught his eye. He touched it with a fond smile and bent over slightly to look at it closer.

Sounds of Bilbo plottering around in the kitchen could be heard as his voice carried to Gandalf, "I was expecting you sometime last week! And I've been expecting Mithrellas for a couple months now. Then again, with her meandering around in the forest, she has lost her sense in time. Not that it matters, you both come and go as you please. Always have done and always will. Although, you caught me a bit unprepared, I'm afraid. We've only got cold chicken and a bit of pickle," He continued to ramble on about jams and cake.

Bilbo entered the study, still flap-jawing, "I could make you some eggs if you like-" The hobbit was surprised at the sudden disappearance of the wizard and he peered around, "Oh, Gandalf?"

"Just tea, thank you."Gandalf said, appearing behind Bilbo.

"Oh, right!" Bilbo said through a mouthful of sponge cake, "You don't mind if I eat, do you?"

"Oh no, not at all," Gandalf said while shaking his head. He followed Bilbo into the kitchen and sat at the hobbit sized table.

"I've got to get away from these confounded relatives hanging on the bell all day, never giving me a moment's peace!" Bilbo exclaimed. He felt as if he was trapped in his own house. He could not take a step outside without someone running up wanting to talk to him about the party. Or, of course, the Sackville-Baggins wanting to discuss something with him. Sometimes he did not mind being trapped, he needed time to work on his book. At other times, he missed being able to go on long walks. '_But that will be soon remedied,' _he thought, briefly slipping a finger into the pocket of his waistcoat.

Bilbo put down his cake and stared out his open kitchen window. "I want to see mountains again, mountains Gandalf! And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book," he face took on a wistful look, but he was broke out of his reverie by the tea kettle. "Oh, tea!"

Gandalf, still busy arranging his much-larger-than-hobbit-sized limbs, commented absently. "So, you mean to go through with your plan, then."

Bilbo flicked his hand as a dismissal, "Yes, yes. All the arrangements are made." He picked up the pot of tea and carried it over to the table and Gandalf politely lifted the lid of the tea pot for him. "Oh, thank you."

Gandalf looked up and met Bilbo's eyes with a steady gaze. "Frodo suspects something."

Bilbo looked down, "'Course he does. He's a Baggins! Not some block-headed Bracegirdle from Hardbottle!" The hobbit finished pouring the water in the pot and hung it back in on the hook in the fireplace. The wizard still stared at Bilbo with a practiced steely gaze.

"You will tell him, won't you?"

"Yes, yes," Bilbo said, still in a unconcerned tone.

Gandalf continued to push the old hobbit further. "He's very fond of you." The wizard finally succeeded in making the hobbit crack when Bilbo breathed in and looked away.

"I know," Bilbo wandered over to the open window. "He'd probably come with me if I asked him," he chuckled, "I think, in his heart, Frodo's still in love with the Shire: the woods, the fields…little rivers."

Bilbo turned away from the window and walked back toward the table. He sat down across from the now concerned looking wizard and locked the man in grey with his own hard gaze. "I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin...sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread," he shifted himself at the table. "I need a holiday - a very long holiday - and I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to!"

"Well, I hope you mean to! The last time you went on some 'holiday' you were quite _homesick_ the whole way and managed to get yourself caught in lots of trouble."

Both the heads of the hobbit and the wizard snapped over to the small window at the sound of a flowing voice. A female face with a slight smile peered in at the two. The two could not see much of her except her face and chest. Her hair was a deep golden color in thick waves down past her shoulders and several small strands around her face were tied in the back. Two pointed ears could be seen, poking out of her hair. The faded brown tunic she wore was slitted a little from the collar.

"Oh, my dear Mithrellas! You are finally here!" Bilbo cried as he stood up. He hurried his way back down the hall, raising his voice as he went. "I was wondering when you would arrive, and hoping it was soon! Come on now, to the front, I will open the door."

Mithrellas looked to Gandalf, who wore a bemused expression. "Iwould have come through the door, but that hobbit has too good many accursed locks on that door." She smiled brightly at the wizard before she ducked out of sight.

Mithrellas was already at the door by the time Bilbo had unlatched his locks and as soon as the door swung open, she swiftly dropped to her knees and embraced Bilbo.

"Bilbo Baggins! Oh, how good it is to see you, mellon nin," she stated with her eyes shut and squeezing the short fellow. '_How I have missed the little shire-folk and their simple ways,'_she thought to herself as she pulled away from Bilbo.

Bilbo led the elf into his lavish hobbit hole. He took her dark grey well-worn cloak, mud, blood, grass stains and all, and hung it up next to Gandalf's hat. She took off her quiver of finely fletched arrows and bow and lent them carefully against the wall. She left her sword sheathed to her hip, having grown uncomfortable with it not being at her side in the last few years.

The elf followed Bilbo to his kitchen and promptly sat next to Gandalf. The wizard rested a hand on her shoulder briefly to get her attention and then smiled at her fondly.

"What ever took you so long to reach Bag End, Mithril?" Mithril being the nickname Thorin Oakenshield and Co. had given her during the journey to the Lonely Mountain. The Dwarves found that they were not able to say 'Mithrellas' so they shortened it to Mithril, one of their most beloved metals. And while her closest friends still called her by her nickname, rumors and tales of a elvish ranger known as Mithril spread all over Middle Earth after the Battle of the Five Armies.

"Whatever took me so long?" she repeated. "I was...delayed. I had things to do and" she met Gandalf's eyes, "I had to stay in the shadows." She sighed after a moment and her face suddenly looked very tired. Gandalf returned his hand to her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. She looked up with a sad smile on her face at the wizard and the hobbit.

"There are lots of things happening in Middle Earth. Talk of strange folk and evil abroad. Talk of demons and trolls. Most of the elves are leaving these shores to Valinor. Even the dwarves are restless, crawling out of their caves and moving around," she said in a low voice.

Bilbo looked at her with interest. "They say that the dark tower has been rebuilt. Are the rumors true?"

"Yes," she stated, in an even lower voice, almost as if someone was lying in the shadows, waiting to strike her with their dark sword if she spoke of it. "I've seen it with my own eyes. The Great-" she was cut off by Gandalf clearing his throat.

"Ah, Bilbo, would you mind getting Mithril some tea? I'm sure she is weary from her long journey, and we have a long evening ahead of us." Gandalf's smile, even though it was tight, instantly warmed the room from the chill that seemed to have crept in.

"Oh! Oh, yes of course," Bilbo scrambled up from his seat and went to the shelf to find a teacup. During this whole exchange, Mithrellas had stared at Gandalf. '_Why did he keep me from telling Bilbo about the dark lord's eye?' _she thought to herself. Gandalf's actions confused her and she thought that he was acting very peculiar. The old and wise wizard always wanted to discuss the happenings of the world with her, often sharing stories. '_There's something he's not telling me. Something he is not sure of.' _She was about to confront the wizard about this issue, but right then Bilbo sat back down with the cup and pored her some tea.

She lightly grasped the cup. "Hannon le, Bilbo."


	2. Dear Sweet Blue

2nd chapter!

I recently fell ill with a right nasty chest cold and missed a few days of school. Most of my spare time has been spent doing makeup work or recovering (sleeping), so I apologize for the wait. The next few weeks will be spent doing project after project. Luckily, my Thanksgiving break is coming up and I will be able to spit out a couple chapters during that time.

A HUGE 'Thank you!' and 'Hannon le!' to all those who reviewed, followed, and/or favorited either me or my story. I was always so excited when I saw those alerts in my email!  
Thank you to: hitman73, Artemis Queen of the Night, ChiyukiLuvs2Glomp, hungergamespettalover, TransFanFreak101, and LillianArtemisRose.  
(The Goddess of the moon is quite popular, eh?)

I do not own any original Tolkien characters, names, terms,dialogue, or places. I own Mithrellas. She is...precious to me.

* * *

Chapter 2- Dear Sweet Blue

After Mithrellas had finished her final cup of tea and talked with Bilbo and Gandalf, she went on down to the party. This the two old companions to smoke their Old Toby and blow smoke rings. The huge tents had already been set up, and hobbits with food and ale dashed around everywhere. Most were already dancing and sneaking food from the cooks. Hobbits with mugs stumbled across her path to get to large barrels full of the finest ale in Hobbiton. There was a sense of excitement sparkling through the air the Shire had not experienced for some time. _'I shouldn't expect anything less,' _she thought to herself. '_Bilbo had this place in a uproar months ago. Besides, when hobbits party, they _party._' _Suddenly her sensitive ears were assaulted with two very loud and unmistakable voices.

"Mithril!"

"Dear, sweet Mithril! You're finally here!"

She turned quickly on her heels and met the two mischievous hobbits head on with a stern expression and a quirked eyebrow. The two skidded into each other and finally stopped within inches of her legs. They both looked up with achingly cute grins that slowly faded at her expression.

"Peregrin Took and Meridoc Brandybuck," she stated with a slight growl in her voice. "What do you believe your doing?" She arched her eyebrow further. The two seemed to gulp almost comically.

"We-we were just excited to see you," Peregrin slightly stuttered.

"Yes, we have been waiting on your arrival for months," Meridoc said in a serious tone. His expression, though, was nervous.

Her dark eyes sparkled with something that betrayed the rest of her face. "Then, I do hope most sincerely that your actions so far do not foreshadow your behavior for the rest of the evening. You could have trampled all those little hobbits! Running through here like raging oliphants. I would hate to have to punish you both; especially on Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday." Peregrin and Meriadoc both took a step back, in sync. They both started stuttering and blinking rapidly. They remembered the punishments they had received from the elf when she visited the Shire before. They played pranks on her like no one else, and were always undoubtedly caught. They distinctly remembered the time they stole her bow and hid it quite cleverly in farmer Maggot's cornfield. It took Mithrellas two days to find it and another two days for the hobbits' heads to quit hurting after she had found the two of them. The elf was very possessive of the few things she owned, and her weapons were no exception.

Mithrellas finally cracked, seeing them sputter. Her laugh, as an elf, was musical, but the hobbits thought she had the most beautiful laugh they had ever heard. For the second time that day, Mithril dropped to her knees and hugged the two now laughing hobbits tight. They both wrapped their arms around her as best they could while their shoulders shook.

"Merry and Pippin, I have missed you as well! It has been quite some time since I have been able to laugh with you."

Over Pippin's shoulder, Mithrellas caught sight of a cute hobbit with dark curly hair and light blue eyes. '_Ah, there he is. I have been wondering where he might have been today_,' she thought. He was dancing with several other hobbits around him and there was a look of pure joy on his face. Mithril saw him pause in his dancing as he seemed to spot something. He left the group of dancing hobbits and walked toward a table. Her gaze was torn from the dark-haired hobbit by Pippin clearing his throat.

"Well, Miss Mithril, it has been a happy reunion. But, we," Pippin motioned to himself and Merry, "have some very important things to do and places to go."

"Pippin-" she started in a warning tone.

"Yes, Mithril, very important things to take care of!" Merry said as grabbed Pippin's arm and began to walk backwards. He pointed at her with both his forefingers, grinning, "I expect to see you later this evening. And I also expect a dance."

"Merry-" she started again.

"Goodbye, Mithrellas!" the two fleeing hobbits yelled in unison. She watched them with clear amusement as they disappeared behind a wagon.

* * *

"Go on, Sam, ask Rosie for a dance!" Frodo Baggins said as he sat down next to his friend at a long table. Sam sat at the table hunched over with a mug of ale in his hand. He glanced slightly over his shoulder at the pretty hobbit girl who was dancing.

"Uhmm, I think I'll just have another ale," he said standing up.

Appearing out of nowhere, as elves often do, Mithril grabbed his shoulders. "Oh, no you don't!" she exclaimed as she shoved him into the line of dancing hobbits.

"Mithril!" Sam cried as he joined Rosie in a dance.

Both the elf and hobbit laughed lightly at their friend before sitting back at the table together. Frodo looked over at her. Since he had seen her a year ago, she had let her hair get longer. Her arms had a few fading thin scars that she most likely acquired by traveling in the woods from small branches and thorns rather than an actual battle. The hobbit could see the twinkle in her dark brown eyes that was always present.

"Oh, Frodo," she said as she ruffled his dark curls fondly. "You have not changed a bit since I saw you. Neither has Bilbo."

"I haven't changed? You are the one who seems the same. Still meddling in with Sam's romantic life," he said, shoving her hand off his head. "Still laughing. Still stalking around in the shadows. You still even look the same!"

"I am a ranger and an elf, correct?" she asked, smiling.

Gandalf let one of his best fireworks loose at that exact moment. The blue comets raced each other out over the water and hills until they died out. A loud cheer rose from the mass of hobbits under the lights.

"I see Bilbo has quite the audience over there," Mithrellas stated as she saw the older hobbit telling a tale to a group of children.

"Yes, he does that a lot these days. Reliving his adventures through telling tales," his eyes dropped. "I know he's planning on leaving."

Mithril became serious at his statement. "When? When is he leaving?"

"I don't know," he answered after a moment's silence. Frodo met her eyes with his clear blue ones.

There was a silence between the two where the only sound was music and hobbits laughing and singing. Frodo still looked into the elf's eyes, as if trying to search them for the answers.

Mithril spotted something out of the corner of her eye she thought was not all that strange to see. A certain Took hopped off Gandalf's wagon with a very large firework in his hands and disappeared inside a tent. And a certain Brandybuck slunk off behind him.

She leaned closer to Frodo and mumbled, "Watch this."

Then she was gone. Frodo looked at where she had sat not a moment before and sighed. He got up from his seat on the bench and walked over to Bilbo. The old hobbit turned to face him with a very frightened look on his face.

"S-S-Sackville Bagginses!" he stuttered in a whisper. Frodo felt his eyes widen as he grabbed Bilbo and pulled him behind a tent flap. Bilbo pulled his waistcoat over his face, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. The prying eyes of two Sackville-Baginses looked around trying to spot the hobbit they swore they had seen not a moment earlier. Frodo let out a breath as he saw them move on to a different tent.

"Thank you, my boy," Bilbo said to Frodo, as he too saw that his stalkers had gone. "You're a good lad, Frodo."

Frodo stared at his uncle at the sudden change in tone as he continued, "I'm very selfish, you know. Yes, I am. . . I don't know why I took you in after your mother and father died, but it wasn't out of charity," he paused to stare at Frodo. "I think it was because, of all my numerous relations, you were the one that showed real . . . _spirit_," he finished.

Frodo looked closely at the older hobbit. "Bilbo, have you been in the Gaffer's home brew?"

"No...Well, yes. But that's not the point. The point is, Frodo," he paused as he thought of what to say, "you'll be alright."

Just then a firework exploded high above the crowd. All the hobbits cheered at its sheer size and at the height at which it climbed. As it reached its peak, it burst into the silhouette of a dragon that arched down toward the merrymakers. All the hobbits started running and screams resounded through the air.

"Bilbo, watch out for the dragon!" Frodo exclaimed as he ushered the older hobbit with the flow of the crowd.

"Dragon? Nonsense! There hasn't been a dragon in these parts for a thousand years!" Bilbo said loudly as Frodo pushed him to the ground.

The dragon flew low over the crowd's ducked heads. It flew off over the lake and burst into a spectacular finale. All the hobbits crouched down on the shore erupted into cheers and hollers. That is, except for the only two standing, soot covered, and dazed hobbits. They looked around with pride at their accomplishment.

"That was good!" Merry said as he nodded his head approvingly.

"Let's get another one!" Pippin agreed, slightly more dazed sounding than Merry.

A figure crept up behind the two and grabbed their ears, yanking them upwards.

"Aah!"

"Ow, ow!"

The figure pulled their ears even further while tilting their heads back. "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took," said the voice of Gandalf the Grey, who stood in front of them. The voice of Mithril, the voice they dreaded the most when they had been caught, sounded right above them.

She moved her eyes from their guilty faces to look over at Gandalf with smirk, "I might have known."


	3. Bind Them With Braids

A major THANK YOU and _Hannon le_ to all of you that followed, favorited, and reviewed!

superkiran, Everliss the wolf, Dragonjess, ArcHerGreeN, aquakim, lotrjesusfreak, The All Powerful Genie God, Kuroppoi Kitsune, Scorpio113, sosoguillemot, Writers Block 420, ghoullish-reader, Rachel12349, Nikieboy

I wish you all a MERRY (not the Brandybuck) CHRISTMAS!

Just so you know, I stayed up late the last couple nights to get this chapter done. I wanted it to finish up all this preliminary stuff so we can get on with the plot! That being said, I am sorry if there are mistakes. I unfortunately did not proofread the entire bloody chapter all the way through in one go. I did it in spurts. I didn't even have my two lovely best friends read through it first! **Please, oh, please let me know in a review about anything that needs to be corrected!**

In this chapter, and in this entire story, I am trying to combine both the books and the movies. In other words, I am trying to stick to head cannon. Also meaning, the books. Therefore...All original Tolkien material belongs completely to the estate of JRR Tolkien. I only own my plot, added dialogue, and Mithrellas. That be all.

* * *

Chapter 3- Bind Them With Braids

The very serious business of eating and drinking came to an end, meaning all those pots, pans, dishes, and cups needed to be washed. For their punishment, Merry and Pippin were given this most pleasing task. Mithrellas plopped her empty plate into one of the large barrels the two hobbits were washing the dishes in. Some suds splashed up on Merry, and while it washed some soot away, he still found the action insulting.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as he saw who caused the horrendous act upon his person. Mithrellas merely hummed and took a long sip from her tea mug as she walked off to join all the other hobbits under the party tree. They all sat at round tables and looked to the small stage where Bilbo was making his way.

As Mithril sidled up to sit by Frodo she raised her hand and called loudly to the old hobbit. "Speech, Bilbo!"

Bilbo waved a hand dismissively in her direction as a response. A few hobbits in the crowd laughed.

"Speech, Bilbo! Speech!" several of the hobbits yelled, following Mithrellas's lead.

"Speech!" Frodo shouted along with them.

Bilbo sent a look in the direction of the elf, but only sighed good-naturedly and smiled at her. He climbed the few stairs up onto the raised platform. The light of the lanterns fell on his beaming face and the golden buttons on his embroidered waistcoat shone. They could all see him standing, still holding up one hand in the air to call attention, and his other hand was tucked in a waistcoat pocket.

"My dear People," he began, "Bagginses and Boffins. Tooks and Brandybucks," cheers went up from the congregation of hobbits at every surname mentioned. "Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots."

An older looking hobbit raised his glass and exclaimed, "Proud_feet_!" His remark was met with another onslaught of laughter. All the hobbits promptly quieted down. They were all eager to hear what the Baggins would have to say.

"Today is my eleventy-first birthday!" he exclaimed.

In response, hobbits raised their glasses and shouted, some stumbling in their speech, 'Happy Birthday!'. Separate from the hobbits, and in a much quieter voice, Mithrellas sprouted out an elvish blessing.

"I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am," Bilbo continued. Deafening cries rang throughout the crowd. Several instruments were played, in a unorganized and joyful chorus. Mithril gripped the other end of a musical cracker with Frodo and they both pulled, revealing a small flute in a flurry of sparks and crackles. Mithrellas snatched up the flute and played a short tune before handing it off with a lovely smile on her face to a small hobbit girl, who laughed with glee at the elf. Off in one of the corners, some of the young Tooks and Brandybucks started up an impromptu orchestra, and began a joyous tune that begged to be danced to. Everard Took and Melilot Brandybuck complied, and got on a table and began to dance the Springle-ring with bells in their hands.

Bilbo was rather disgruntled looking, for he had not finished. He seized a small horn from one of the musical crackers and blew three loud hoots. The noise and dancing immediately subsided.

"I shall not keep you long," he cried, "I have called you all together for a purpose." Something in the way that his voice sounded made Mithrellas's ear perk up.

"Indeed, for three purposes!" Bilbo continued his speech, looking around at the tables solemnly, "First of all, alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits," both loud cheers and sentimental gazes bounced around. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

A dead silence once more filled the air. Not one of the hobbits knew just how to respond. Some were not even sure whether the statement was meant to be an insult or a compliment. Gandalf and Mithrellas shared a secret smile from across the field. They had known Bilbo long enough to know exactly what he meant.

But, Bilbo plowed tight through the silence and went on, "Secondly, to celebrate my birthday," cheers filled the air again, "I should say, _our _birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today," Mithrellas reached over and lightly squeezed Frodo's arm as some clapping and shouts of his name rose from the crowd. Only the Sackville-Bagginses scowled. It was true, Frodo turned the age of thirty-three today, which, by hobbit standards, was a very important age.

"Together we score one hundred and forty-four. Your numbers were chosen to fit this remarkable total," no cheers sounded, "It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake, though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem so important. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a bad cold at the time, I remember, and could only say 'thag you very buch'. I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party," he paused in his rambling to a silent congregation. The crowd of annoyed hobbits were wondering if he would ever finish at this point.

"Thirdly and finally," he said, "I wish to make an announcement!" he ended this sentence loudly to take advantage of the small amount of attention he still held.

Mithril took a sip from her teacup once more and looked up at Bilbo just in time to see him slip his hand into his waistcoat pocket, pull something out, and put his arm behind his back.

"I, uh, I h-have things to do," Mithril slowly lowered her cup from her mouth as she watched him fidget with what was in the hand behind his back. Her keen elvish ears were the only pair in the crowd to catch the next words that were meant for only Bilbo to hear. "I've put this off for far too long."

She glanced over to Frodo, still lowering her cup, and found his face to be one of both confusion and knowledge. Frodo knew what was going on. He knew that his beloved uncle was leaving the Shire.

Bilbo took on a slightly remorseful tone and continued his speech, "I regret to announce, this is The End. I am going now," he looked straight at Mithril and then at Gandalf, "I bid you all a very fond farewell." Mithrellas felt her eyes narrow in suspicion.

His gaze turned to lock with Frodo's and he whispered with finality, "Goodbye."

By the time the word had left his lips, he had disappeared. A collective gasp could be heard by all the hobbits present as they looked around wildly, expecting the old kook to be laughing. Mithrellas stood up, forgetting the rest of her tea, and searched the field with her elf eyes. Down on a side path, she saw hobbit-sized foot prints appearing quickly. She took a quick step forward to follow, but stopped when saw the flutter of Gandalf's grey cloak as he headed up the hill toward Bag End.

She would let the wizard take care of the runaway hobbit.

* * *

Frodo walked a few steps ahead of Mithrellas, eager to reach the hobbit hole. The elf walked in the shadow on the road, keeping her old habits up. They walked in silence. Neither one of them knew what to say to comfort the other. The walk felt as if it would never end. They were both quite frightened, even though Mithrellas would not admit it, at what waited for them at Bag End.

They eventually climbed the sloping road up to the entrance to Bag End and as they came closer to the door Frodo broke out into a run. Mithrellas followed him, finally stepping out of the shadows. She merely had to walk fast-paced to keep up with the short hobbit.

"Bilbo! Bilbo!" he yelled as he ran. He shoved open the round door and stopped abruptly. Mithrellas stopped right before she crossed the threshold. She watched curiously as Frodo bent down and picked up an object that reflected the flickering fire light. She had to hold back a gasp at what she saw. '_The Ring...,' _she glanced over to the roaring fire place and saw the old, grey wizard.

Smoke from Gandalf's pipe drifted up in tangled curls beside his face as he stared blankly into the fire. Mithrellas heard him mumbling to himself, "My precious...precious."

Frodo seemed to just notice the wizard and approached him quietly, leaving Mithril in the doorway. He stood over the Gandalf's shoulder, seemingly afraid to speak.

He gathered up his courage, "He's gone hasn't he? He talked for so long about leaving. I didn't think he'd really do it," he paused, waiting for the wizard to reply. "Gandalf?"

'_Has Gandalf had the ring this whole time? Is that why he was acting so peculiar this afternoon?'_ Mithril took a step forward. '_If he is under the influence of the ring, then there is no knowing what that wizard will do. What that wizard _can _do," _she thought_. "Gandalf is already powerful as it is."_

The elf prepared herself to do anything to stop the wizard from causing any harm, to anyone. Her hand found the familiar hilt of her sword and grasped it tightly.

"Hmm?" he smiled slightly at Frodo and noticed the Ring in Frodo's hand. Mithrellas started to unsheathe her sword before he continued. She was not sure if he was in his right mind. Then again, she was never really sure with Gandalf the Grey.

"He's gone to stay with the Elves. He's left you Bag End…," he held out an open envelope to Frodo. The hobbit looked uncertain as he slipped the ring inside. Gandalf snatched the envelope and quickly sealed it.

Gandalf continued, "Along with all his possessions," he held the sealed envelope out to Frodo, "The Ring is yours now. Put it somewhere out of sight." Mithrellas felt her hand loosen around her sword.

Gandalf suddenly stood and rushed about the cramped hobbit hole and gathered his staff and hat.

"Where are you going?" Frodo asked as his eyes either followed the wizard or flashed over to the elf.

"There are some things that I must see to," the wizard said as he abruptly turned to the wide-eyed Mithrellas. "Mithril, my dear, you will stay with Frodo while I am away?"

Mithrellas felt her tension toward the wizard instantly dissipate at look calm and steady look in his eyes_. _Her hand left the hilt of her sword. '_What was I thinking? Gandalf, of all people, under the thumb of the Ring. Bah!' _she said to herself.

"Yes, of course, Gandalf," she said to the wizard.

"Good, good. Very good," he muttered with a smile as he nodded hurriedly.

Frodo was still horribly confused, "What things?" he exclaimed.

"Questions! Questions that need answering!" Gandalf replied as he grasped his staff and checked his sword. He hurried toward the small door.

Frodo tried one last stab to try and get his attention,"But you've only just arrived! I don't understand."

Gandalf stopped in his hurried exit and looked back to the young hobbit, face full of sympathy. He slowly walked back and dropped a hand on Frodo's shoulder.

"Neither do I," he admitted, "Keep it secret. Keep it safe." He turned to Mithrellas once again, "Keep him safe."

With a swoosh of his grey robes, the wizard left Bag End and disappeared into the cloaking night. Frodo and Mithril stood at the doorway of Bag End and watched the old wizard and his cart leave their view. Frodo looked down at the envelope in his hand once any sight of the wizard had faded from his view.

"Come along, Frodo," Mithrellas started while staring over the Shire. She looked down at the hobbit to find him already staring at her. The look in his eyes clutched around her heart so tight that she was sure she would never forget the look of intense sadness upon his hobbit features. She squatted down to look him straight in the eye and put her hands on his arms.

"Frodo," she began, "Come on inside. Tomorrow will be a better day." She hoped that was all she would have to say, but that was not the case. Frodo continued to stare at her.

"Listen, you may not think it now, but what Gandalf is doing is for the best," she said to him softly. "Best for you, for the Shire, and for Middle Earth. He will be ba-"

"But _why_!? _Why_ is it for the good of Middle Earth?" Frodo cried, interrupting her, "_Why_ must you guard me until he returns? Mithril, I do not understand!"

"Gandalf will be back before you know it," she finished calmly. "And, all will be explained in time," Mithril found that was all she could say on the matter. She gently took the envelope from Frodo's hands.

"Come on, I will take care of this. You go on to bed," she squeezed his arm and stood to walk back into the hole. She removed her weapons and cloak once more and left them by the door. She carried the envelope and stuffed it into the bottom of a trunk filled with other papers and things Bilbo had left behind. She finally heard the front door shut and the patter of Frodo's feet as he went to his room. She heard his door shut.

But she was still on edge.

Going and lying down right now was not an option, but she knew what would help her calm her nerves. She checked the locks on the round door, tugging them to make sure, and gathered her sharpening stone from her pack. After closing all the windows, she sat in the chair by the dying fire Gandalf had occupied not an hour before. She spent the night slowly sharpening her sword, all the while glaring at the chest that could hold the doomed fate of Middle Earth.

In a few rooms down the hall, Frodo laid awake for some time. He himself was having trouble thinking of anything but Bilbo and Gandalf. Not to mention letting himself relax. His mind whirred around over everything Gandalf had said when the wizard had left in such a rush earlier. He worried over Bilbo. Whether there was anything he could have done to have kept his uncle here, in Bag End. In the Shire. Frodo worried about him being out on a journey all alone.

Eventually, his mind focused onto something else. The sound of metal grinding over stone. The rhythmic lull soon took its toll, and Frodo fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Night slowly passed and the sun rose on the Shire. Sunlight traveled over the river and over the hill. It then shone through the windows at Bag End and fell on a elleth still awake in a chair by smoldering ashes. She arose, hanging up her cloak and stuffing her heavy leather pouches and ranger gear into her pack. She then searched around the crammed kitchen to prepare both Frodo and herself breakfast. Mithrellas, being both an elf and living like a ranger, was used to being awake for quite some time and did it often. She also know that hobbits preferred to rise rather later, at least by her standards. Morning went on and Mithril watched as hobbits came and began to clear away the pavilions, the tables, the chairs, and the trash from the party last night. There was no doubt in her mind that the Eleventy-First birthday party of the old vanishing kook Bilbo Baggins would be the talk of the Shire for some years.

"Mithrellas?" she heard Frodo say from the hall. She looked up at him to find that he was already fully dressed for a long day.

"Good morning," she smiled cheekily, "_Master_ Baggins."

Frodo smiled back at her, glad that despite Gandalf and Bilbo were gone, the only non-hobbit constant in his life was still the same.

The two ate their breakfast, consisting of biscuits with jam, dried meat, and eggs, in silence. Shortly after, a number of other hobbits came to Bag End, and by mid-day, there was a large expected crowd gathered at Bag End. Frodo greeted them on the steps and ushered them all very politely inside where Mithrellas gave them all a stare-down. Most hobbits were rather nasty when it came to nice things.

Inside in the hall, there was a large pile of assorted packages, parcels, and small furniture with a label on every item. One of Mithril's favorites, on a case of silver spoons, said '_For Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, as a present.'_ Mithrellas know that Bilbo believed that Lobelia had acquired many of his spoons while he had been away on his former journey, something he always enjoyed complaining about. Needless to say, Lobelia understood the note quite plainly when she arrived to pick up anything left to her, but she also took the spoons.

In the afternoon was when trouble began. A false rumor had spread around that the whole household of Bag End was being given away. And before Mithrellas or Frodo knew, the place was packed with hobbits who had no business there. Labels were torn off and mixed, and fights among younger hobbits broke out. Some even tried to start swapping and dealing in the hall, while others tried to run off with items not labeled or with anything else that seemed to be unwanted. Mithrellas spent her afternoon, at the request of Frodo, rounding up all of the stolen items and returning them to a locked back room in Bag End.

As if all this was not enough, the Sackville-Bagginses arrived once more. Frodo, wearing himself out trying to still be tactful with the obnoxious hobbits, had retreated to the study. He called in Merry Brandybuck to keep a watchful eye on things with Mithril while he rested.

Mithril saw them coming from down the road and laid a hand on Merry's shoulder, "They are all yours, Merry. Call me if they start to cause some real trouble," she said before she walked over to a large and arguing group of hobbits with a teasing smile trying to fight its way onto her face.

"What?" he said, not understanding what she meant. He then spotted the Sackville-Bagginses and sent a playful glare in Mithril's direction.

"He is resting," he said to the Sackville-Bagginses when they asked rudely to see Frodo.

"Hiding, you mean," said Lobelia. "Anyway we want to see him and we mean to see him. Just go and tell him so!"

Merry eventually ushered them into the study where Frodo was sitting at a table with a lot of papers. The Sackville-Bagginses spoke offensively to him, but he always spoke back politely. At one point, Mithrellas heard their raised voices from down the hall and hurried into the study. She went over and stood behind Frodo, glaring at the Sackville-Bagginses. They then stopped yelling at Frodo, but began offering him bad bargain-prices for various things in Bag End. Frodo would always have to reply that only the things labeled by Bilbo were being given away. They commented that the whole affair was very fishy.

"Only one thing is clear to me," said Otho, being Bilbo's would-have-been heir, "and that is that you are doing exceedingly well out of it. I insist on seeing the will."

Frodo politely, but begrudgingly, handed the will over to Otho. He carefully read the will and snorted. It was, unfortunately, written very clear and was completely legal, by Hobbit standards.

"Foiled again!" he exclaimed to his wife. "And after waiting sixty years. Spoons? Fiddlesticks!" As he proceeded to snap his fingers under Frodo's nose, Mithrellas took a menacing step forward and the two Sackville-Bagginses rushed out of the Study, but Lobelia was not so easily gotten rid of. A little later Mithrellas came out of the study to see how things were going and found her still running about the place, looking into nooks and corners and tapping the floorboards.

Mithrellas felt her mouth draw up into a very thin line. She had had quite enough of this woman. She had actually had quite enough of hobbits in general for one day. She escorted Lobelia promptly off the premises, after relieving her of several small, but valuable, items that had somehow wound up inside her umbrella. The two stood outside for some time, going at each other until they were both red in the face, Lobelia more so than Mithrellas. This was also how Merry and Frodo found them as the two looked out from the doorway of Bag End.

"You'll live to regret it, young fellow! Why didn't you go too? You don't belong here; you're no Baggins, you're a Brandybuck!" Lobelia shouted once she spotted Frodo. She quickly turned and marched down the lane.

"Did you hear that, Merry? That was an insult, if you like," Mithrellas said angrily as she tried to walk slowly up the steps to join the two grinning hobbits.

"It was a compliment," said Merry. He personally loved to see Mithril get so worked up, "and so, of course, not true."

She turned quickly on her foot and stomped in Bag End and shooed out all the remaining hobbits before slamming the round door. She, continuing her rage, marched down the hall and claimed guest bedroom with the largest bed, shutting the door with less fierceness than the first.

Merry and Frodo were left alone in the parlor with their jaws dropped. They slowly turned to look at one another and burst into laughter.

* * *

Three years lazily passed in the Shire for Mithrellas. She had remorsefully put up most of her weapons since she had no use of them everyday. Her sword, although remaining leaning against the wall near the hobbit-sized door, was never used. Hobbits were wary when it came to big-folk weapons, and even Frodo eyed with a odd look it sometimes. She had stopped wearing her ranger clothes sometime ago and now wore a nice variety of long, flowing skirts and tunics. She had even fallen into the habit of keeping her hair braided back and out of her eyes.

She now spent her time solely in the Shire, rather then all over Middle Earth. She spent the days helping Sam Gamgee and the Old Gaffer in the garden at Bag End or chasing Merry and Pippin around because of the latest prank they pulled on her. Other times she was with Frodo, walking aimlessly all over the Shire or holed up in the rooms of Bag End reading books.

As time went on, both Mithrellas and the Shire-folk began to notice that Frodo showed signs of good 'preservation'. But it was not until Frodo approached the tiring age of fifty that they all began to think it truly odd.

Frodo himself began to feel restless, and the paths of the Shire began to seem old and held no more adventure for him. He poured over maps with Mithrellas. He asked about what lay beyond their edges and what lands should be in the blank spaces. He started to wander further out and more often at night by himself, not even bothering to ask Mithrellas for her accompaniment.

More rumors of strange things happening in the world seeped into the Shire. Frodo attentively gathered all the news he could, from anyone he could. Elves, who were seldom found in the Shire, were now seen passing into the West through the woods in the evening. Mithrellas told Frodo that they were leaving Middle-earth and no longer cared about its troubles, and she watched them go with sadness. She said no words to them, but silently blessed them with a good journey and wished them farewell.

It was just around this time that Gandalf reappeared after a long leave. He paid Frodo and Mithrellas a brief visit, merely taking a good look at the two of them, and then disappearing into the air again. Throughout the next year or so, he unexpectedly turned up several times after dusk, and always left before the sun could rise. He never discussed his own business, but rather kept the short conversations on Frodo's health and how Mithrellas was faring in the Shire.

Suddenly, his visits stopped and over nine years passed since he had been either seen or heard of. Mithrellas began to wonder about him and feared the worst, but she never revealed her thoughts to Frodo. She merely kept an closer eye on him than before. She often found herself staring at the small chest in the foyer, thinking of her suspicions and if they were correct. If something had happened to Gandalf, she alone was the sole person, to her knowledge, who knew what could possibly lie in the little chest at this very moment. She alone would have to do something about the plain golden band in the chest. She also knew that their time of undisturbed peace in the Shire was running out.

* * *

"Goodnight Sam," Frodo said as he stumbled up to the gate to Bag End. Frodo and Sam had spent a rather enjoyable evening with their friends down at the Green Dragon.

"Goodnight, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied before he continued on his merry way down the road.

Frodo walked up the steps and opened the front door. He took a step inside and then froze, finding Bag End to be unlit. When he left earlier that evening, Mithril had been reading by the fire with several other sweet-smelling candles lit throughout the home, but now all the flames were extinguished a papers and curtains rustled in the breeze from the open windows.

Frodo cautiously took a few steps forward. "Mithril?" he called into the dark, "Mithrellas? Where are you?"

He was beginning to hope that she had simply fallen asleep somewhere and just left the windows open, but then he felt a hand land on his shoulder from behind. He jumped high off the ground and turned around, gasping.

"Is it secret?! Is it safe?!" Gandalf whispered out wildly. Frodo felt a rush of relief run through him at the sight of the old wizard's face. '_Just Gandalf,' _he thought.

"Frodo?" Mithrellas's voice called from the hall. The hobbit jerked his head over to her. "I'm right here." She said, appearing from the black shadows garbed in her full ranger attire. She had reunited with her weapons; her bow and quiver strapped to her back, daggers hidden in her clothes and tied to belts, and her sword sheathed at her hip.

Gandalf now rushed over to her and grasped her shoulders, shaking them lightly. "Is it secret?! Is it safe?!" he rushed out, eyes flitting around.

"Calm down, Mithrandir," she said to him lowly, in a serious tone, "It is safe and utterly secret. No one else knows that it is here." The elf removed his hands and looked at Frodo, "Start a fire," she commanded, still in a dead-serious tone. Frodo rushed over to the fireplace, striking the flint repeatedly over new kindling. Once a flame struck up, he added in some larger sticks and then a couple thick pieces of chopped wood.

Mithrellas dropped on her knees by a chest and rummaged through the papers that had not been touched for years. She finally held up the sealed envelope from so many years ago and handed it to Gandalf. Gandalf snatched it from her and threw it on the fire.

"What are you doing?!" Frodo asked, alarmed as the envelope was being consumed by the fire. As the blackened paper crumbled away, the plain golden ring appears. Gandalf reached and grasped it with a pair of tongs.

"Hold out your hand Frodo, it's quite cool," he said, turning to the bewildered hobbit. He dropped the Ring on Frodo's outstretched palm.

"What can you see? Can you see anything?" Mithrellas asked Frodo, standing a little farther away from the two.

Frodo turned the Ring over and over between his fingers, "Nothing. There's nothing..."

Gandalf and Mithrellas both sighed in relief. But then, Frodo spoke again.

"Wait, there are markings," he said as glowing letters appeared on the band and reflected on the hobbit's face.

"It's some form of Elvish. I can't read it," he said before turning to Mithrellas, "Mithril?" he asked, outstretching the hand that held the ring to her. She took a step away from him while softly shaking her head.

Gandalf spoke up, "There are few who can. The language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here."

"Mordor?" Frodo asked, bewildered once again.

Gandalf grimly continued, "In the common tongue it says, 'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.'"


	4. Found at the Leave

A 'Thank You' to all those who reviewed, followed, and/or favorited: lotrjesusfreak, yeong-wonhan gang, VelerinaStarleaf, ariah23, antaurilover685, shinigamigymnast13, choirbandgeek, Skaiya McFee, Castor Black

_ATTENTION! ATTENTION! _**_IMPORTANT_ ANNOUNCEMENT!**

For those of you out there that do not give a dwarfish beard about the accurateness of this story (AKA: Non-nerdy folk), just skip ahead to the beginning of the actual chapter. I do beg you to reconsider and read my long AN.

If you do care about nerdy accurateness, you need to read the following two points.

1.) I received a review that has brought something rather important to my attention:

Chapter: 1. Chapter 1 - Tea and Locks  
From: Guest

Rangers are Dunedain, or Men of the West. They are not elves, for they are

men. An elf may be considered like a Ranger, such as Elladan and Elrohir, if

they work amoung or are associated with Rangers, but would not have the title of Ranger.

Please understand that I wish only for every story to be as accurate as

possible. Fanfiction should be a tribute to the works of Tolkien, so I simply

ask you to clarify that Mithrellas is not a Dunedain, but an elf.

Whoever you are, **"Thank You!"**

Since this person is a anonymous reviewer, and I could not send them a private message...I wanted to say something to them. I completely understand the want for everything to be accurate. Fanfiction is _not _someplace where rules established by the author, or creator, of a fandom can be bent just for the sake of an OC. I wanted and intended Mithrellas to have the same 'title' or 'standing' (is that the right word? I'm not sure how to word this where it sounds right...rambling does not translate well into text.) or 'consideration' as Elladan and Elrohir, I just was not sure how to convey such.

In regards to this review, I will be going back and editing my chapters. I also have discovered a few minor typos and other nit-picky things that I wish to correct. I will have to ponder about how to change my story summary to match this, though. I hate that darn character limit!

**_SO! _ Just to clarify, from this point forward and backward, Mithrellas herself is not a legitimate Ranger, but she merely associates herself with them heavily and conducts herself as one. She is an elf, not a man nor one of the Dúnedain.**

2.) Obviously, I did not just come up with the name 'Mithrellas'. I merely used her name from another female elf that is barely mentioned in the wide expanse of Tolkien-dom. The following text offers some info, taken from (http: (forward slash) (forward slash) .net (forward slash) )

'Mithrellas was part of a group of Elf maids accompanying Nimrodel when they got lost in the woods near the coast. Imrazôr sheltered them and fell in love with Mithrellas. The maids traveled on, but Mithrellas stayed behind and married Imrazôr. After she had two mortal children, a boy named Galador and a girl named Gilmith, she realized that they would all die and leave her in utter loneliness. She slipped away from them one night and ran far away, to lie beneath a tree and die in her despair.'

Also, this site offers some more info: (http:(forward slash) (forward slash) arda/m (forward slash) )

'A Silvan Elf who, at least according to legend, accompanied Nimrodel on her journey to the southern havens. Mithrellas, it is said, became lost in the woods of Belfalas, where she was found by Imrazôr the Númenórean So Elvish blood entered the line of the Princes of Dol Amroth, it was claimed, since her son Galadorwas the first of the long line of Princes. Tradition said that after the birth of her two children, Mithrellas disappeared one night, and was never seen again. Her ultimate fate remains unknown, though it is possible she attempted to follow her mistress Nimrodel on the long journey into the West.'

I think that the original Mithrellas is beautifully mysterious, which is one of the many reasons I chose that particular name. My OC Mithrellas has no ties to the original Mithrellas, besides an obvious namesake.

* * *

OK, I'm done with the nerdy and things...continue on...Sorry for the very long AN...Hope you like this chapter! And again, please, oh, please let me know in a review about anything that needs to be corrected!

Chapter 4- Found at the Leave

Frodo and Gandalf sat down at the kitchen table while Mithril prepared tea. They both stared down at the ring on the table, the reflection of the room and fire being distorted on its polished and smooth surface.

Gandalf looked up at Frodo, "This is the One Ring," he regrettably stated. Mithrellas looked up from pouring tea to stare at his face as he continued, "Forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom. Taken by Isildur from the hand of Sauron himself."

"Bilbo found it. In Gollum's cave," Frodo said as Mithrellas handed them both mugs of tea and then sat down next to the hobbit.

"Yes," the wizard said, nodding in approval at Frodo's curious knowledge, "For sixty years the Ring lay quiet in Bilbo's keeping, prolonging his life, delaying old age," he paused, "But no longer Frodo. Evil is stirring in Mordor. The Ring has awoken. It's heard its master's call."

"But he was destroyed!" Frodo protested,meeting the wizard's gaze, "Sauron was destroyed."

At that moment, all of them heard the Ring whispering softly in the Black Speech. All of their eyes flashed down to stared at the Ring again. They all felt the darkening presence of the Ring. The shadows seemed to increase in both size and depth.

"No, Frodo," Gandalf finally muttered, " The spirit of Sauron endured. His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived. Sauron has returned. His orcs have multiplied. His fortress at Barad-Dûr is rebuilt in the land of Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands of a second darkness. He is seeking it, and all his thought is bent on it. The Ring yearns above all else to return to the hand of its master. They are one, the Ring and the Dark Lord. Frodo, he must never find it."

Frodo suddenly stood up and grabbed the Ring off the table. He walked stiffly down the hall, out of view of the wizard and elf.

"Alright, we put it away," Frodo assured himself while looking for a hiding place. "We keep it hidden. We never speak of it again. No one knows it's here, do they?" The wizard did not answer. The hobbit slowly turned on his feet and stared intently at Gandalf who had followed him to a doorway.

"Gandalf, do they?" Mithrellas spoke up in a low voice after a long pause.

Gandalf seemed to wince before he answered, "There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the Ring," he began to slowly pace around as he continued to talk, "I looked everywhere for the creature Gollum. But the enemy found him first," his voice paused, "I don't know how long they tortured him. But amidst the endless screams and inane babble, they discerned two words . . . 'Shire' and 'Baggins'"

"Shire...Baggins...?" Frodo sputtered out, panicking, "But that would lead them here!"

* * *

Somewhere in the Shire, over the water, two Black Riders came thundering down an empty road. A hobbit, going in for the night, held his lantern up higher at the sound of the approaching hoof beats. He backed up slightly as the noise grew closer, but found his courage and stepped toward the road.

"Who goes there?" he asked bravely as he saw two black horses round the curve in the road.

As one of the Riders neared the hobbit, he finally caught a glimpse of what rode the heavy, black horses. But before he could shout or run out of the way, one of the seemingly demon-like figures brought down a dark sword on the hobbit's head. The tortured horse screamed and continued on carrying the evil figure down the eerie road.

Frodo held the Ring out urgently to Gandalf.

"Take it Gandalf!" he commanded, still in a panicked state, "Take it!"

"No, Frodo," Gandalf shook his head.

Frodo became desperate, "You must take it!"

"You cannot offer me this Ring!" Gandalf shouted at the hobbit.

"I'm giving it to you!" Frodo shouted back at the wizard, his eyes pleading.

"_Don't_ tempt me Frodo!" the wizard softened, "I dare not take it; not even to keep it safe. Understand Frodo, I would use this Ring from a desire to do good. But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."

"It cannot stay in the Shire!" Mithrellas said urgently as she stuffed necessary things into her leather pack, "We are running out of time."

"No," the Grey said quietly, "You're right. No, it can't."

This seemed to throw Frodo head-long into a decision. He closed his hand tightly around the Ring and looked up bravely at Gandalf.

"What must I do?" he whispered.

Mithrellas flung a couple pairs of trousers at Frodo who stuffed them into a leather pack.

"You two must leave, and leave quickly," Gandalf told him as he neatly rolled up a shirt.

"Where do we go?" Frodo franticly asked, still absently stuffing the things already in his pack.

"Get out of the Shire. Make for the village Bree," Gandalf answered him as he threw a rolled up shirt to Frodo. Frodo grabbed it, and stuffed it into his pack, unrolling it in the process.

"Bree," the hobbit repeated absently, "What about you?"

"I'll be waiting for you, at the Inn of the Prancing Pony," the old wizard reassured him.

"And the Ring will be safe there?" Frodo questioned him once more as he stuffed in a bundle of food Mithrellas handed to him. She herself continued to bustle around the hobbit hole, looking for things they might need or that she could not leave behind.

"I don't know Frodo. I don't have any answers," Gandalf regrettably said, "I must see the head of my order. He is both wise and powerful. Trust me Frodo, he'll know what to do," he nodded reassuringly, with a sure smile.

"You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you, for that name is not safe outside the Shire." Gandalf told Frodo as he helped him into his cloak. Frodo shrugged on his pack and adjusted it on his back. Mithrellas came into the room at that moment, completely packed. She flung her cloak over her and shouldered her pack.

"I need not tell you this, Mithril," Gandalf said sternly, "But I warn you, travel only by day and stay off the road."

She nodded at him while meeting his eyes with an equally serious expression. Then, she raked her eyes over a cloaked and supplied hobbit, and smiled at the sight of him. Frodo slipped the golden Ring into a pocket in his waistcoat.

"You look ready for an awfully long adventure," she commented.

"I can cut across country easily enough," he said, smiling and glancing back and forth between the two.

"My dear Frodo," Gandalf smiled fondly down at him, "Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years, they can still surprise you."

Mithrellas looked on at the scene with a slight smile on her own face. But the moment was ruined when she heard leaves rustling just out side an open window. The elf drew her sword and rushed to the window.

"Get down!" she commanded in a whisper and motioned at the two. Frodo silently obeyed and dropped to the floor. Gandalf, however, picked up his staff and joined her, going to the other side of the window. She cautiously peeked out and listened. Then, she drew back suddenly and whacked the flat of her blade on top of the bushes. A surprised 'ooof' was heard as the being who had been whacked complained. Her mouth drew itself into a line, she knew just who was out there. She reached down and grabbed the offender by his curly hair and plopped him down on the table.

"Confound it all, Samwise Gamgee! Have you been eavesdropping?!" she yelled at him with her sword raised above her head, still threatening to the hobbit but not to the point of his life.

"I haven't dropped no eaves miss, honest," Sam said breathlessly and shaking, "I was just cutting the grass under the window there, if you follow me."

"A little late for trimming the verge, don't you think, _perian_?" Mithril asked him with narrowed eyes.

"I-I...I heard raised voices," the frightened hobbit stuttered out.

"What did you hear?!" Gandalf roughly commanded from the side.

"Speak!" Mithrellas ordered as the hobbit hesitated. She lowered the tip of her sword closer to his neck.

"N-n-n-nothing important," Sam said, stuttering more, "That is, I heard a good deal about a Ring and a Dark Lord and something about the end of the world but," he paused in his nervous speech and slowed his voice, "Please, Miss Mithril, ma'am, and Mister Gandalf, sir, don't hurt me. Don't do anythin' to me," he swallowed, "unnatural."

"Noooo?" Gandalf drew out as he turned a conspiratorial gaze over to Frodo.

"Perhaps not," Mithrellas ground out. Her face then mischievously brightened, "I have thought of a better use for you." An evil smirk curved her lips and Sam once again looked over to Frodo nervously, in desperate need of support.

* * *

An crisp, early dawn rose the following morning and an odd company of four, led by an eager elleth, were not seen by any Shire-folk as they crossed a road. Mithrellas, Gandalf, his horse, and Frodo quickly crossed and easily made their way following the side of the road. On the other hand, Sam, encumbered with pots and pans, puffed along several paces behind them.

"Come along, Samwise, keep up!" Mithrellas yelled from the front.

"Elves...," Sam muttered under his labored breath as he climbed the steep bank to join the other three.

"What was that, Samwise?" the only elf in the company happily yelled back to him.

Sam sighed, "Nothin'," he said in a normal volume, knowing she could hear him, and trudged on.

* * *

"Be careful, all of you," Gandalf began as they arrived in a small clearing, "The enemy has many spies in his service birds, beasts," he turned to Frodo, "Is it safe?"

Frodo patted his vest pocket, assuring the old wizard.

"Never put it on," he continued, "For the agents of the Dark Lord will be drawn to its power. Always remember, Frodo, the Ring is trying to get back to its master. It wants to be found."

Gandalf turned one last time to look at Mithrellas and he smiled. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and led her out of earshot of the hobbits. "My dear, I must tell you this now. At Bree, Strider awaits the arrival of you and the hobbits," Mithrellas's eyes widened at the name and she opened her mouth to interject, but Gandalf continued, "From there, he will be escorting you all to Rivendell," he lowered his voice to below a whisper, "A secret council of all the free remaining races of Middle Earth is being called there in a short time."

"A council? For what reason? The Ring?" Mithrellas questioned with an equally low voice.

Gandalf nodded, "Yes, and I expect to both see you in Rivendell and to see you to attend the council," he suddenly smiled at her, "This is where I leave you. Have a good journey."

"_Namarie, mellon_," she said to him quietly, reverting to her native tongue, as he mounted his horse.

"_Namarie_," he muttered before quickly riding off into the forest, leaving the three behind.

Frodo and Sam, missing the entire conversation that had just taken place, stared at each other. Eventually Mithrellas sighed, which snapped their attention to her. She motioned for them to follow her. They both picked up their walking-sticks and continued on after the elf.

* * *

The company of three trekked all through the countryside, making their way across streams, over hills and through meadows. They soon found themselves before a cornfield, near the edge of the Shire. Sam, who had been at the back of the company, suddenly stopped beside a large scarecrow.

"This is it," Sam stated.

Frodo and Mithrellas turned around to look at his companion.

"This is what?" Frodo asked.

"If take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been," Sam finished his thought. Frodo smiled and went up to Sam, taking his arm to pull him along.

"Come along, you two. Just remember what Bilbo used to say," she smiled fondly and lowered her voice, attempting to sound like a wise and old Bilbo,"'It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.'"

* * *

The two hobbits were very thankful to finally stop walking for the evening. They stopped just as the sun was setting and made camp. Now, dusk was just starting and Mithrellas was quite pleased with the time they had made. She now sat at the edge of their camp and planned tomorrow's journey in her head. Sam sat by the fire in the middle, cooking their meal of bacon, tomatoes and sausages. Frodo had retreated to a tree limb and smoked his pipe, waiting for the meal.

Suddenly, Mithrellas perked up, "Sam! Frodo!" they both stop all movement and looked to her, "Listen!"

After a minute or two of silence, the two hobbits could hear the high, sweet voices in the distance"

Frodo looks down at Sam with a delighted smile, "Sam! Wood-Elves!"

At Mithrellas's lead, they both quickly jumped up and climbed the nearest ridge. They laid down and watched the large company of elves slowly pass by on a forest path. The group, some on horseback, some walking, and some with banners, seemed to glow as they sang.

"They're going to the harbor beyond the White Towers," Mithrellas informed them, "To the Grey Havens."

"They're leaving Middle-earth," Sam said to himself as he stared, entranced, at the ethereal figures.

"Never to return," Frodo added.

"I don't know why," Sam continued, this time to his companions, "But, it makes me sad."

And they laid there for some time, until the last fading line of the elvish song was lost to their ears.

* * *

Like I said at the top, I will be going back and editing my chapters. I also have discovered a few minor typos that I wish to correct, besides the need to change Mithrellas's status

I really wanted to continue showing the relationship that Mithrellas has with these two in this chapter before things start to happen! Plot goes underway! Mithril gets-!

Well, I shouldn't tell you that. Yet. Yes, next chapter, precious!

**Review! I would love some feedback!** Just a simple "I love this and this and this!" or a "I don't like this and this and this!" will do. But, honestly, all of you who have favorited or followed have spoken volumes to me. Thank you.


	5. Laughing Through Misty Tears

Did you know...TODAY IS J.R.R. TOLKIEN'S BIRTHDAY?!

*Ahem*...In celebration and remembrance of that, I give you...Chapter 5.

'Thank You' and '_Hannon le_' to all of you lovely people who reviewed, favorited, and/or followed:

Zagato-Sama, TheCatDiedANobleDeath,BCat13, Random-Dreaming, TeamSterekForever, AbbieLou,xElfXGirlx, BlueBatWing, oxsilvertearsxo, KijoKuroi, ForeverKitty, KateDark,Bakagirl101, missy-mischief, KittyoftheNight, YugiohObsessed, Egilly, Dreamingsoul57, Ortholeine, AnonSarahXD, lotrjesusfreak. JHO14, sPaRkzZz, Peter the Otaku, FasterThenMyBullet, Katsu Shade Nakamara, LEXA14,Vampyerlover

To whoever left the following anonymous guest review:

"What kind of a name is Mithrellas? Yes, I know it has to do with Mithril, but

"-ellas" sounds like made-up embellishment. Please choose sensical names."

**I hate to inform you, kind guest...but you just insulted Tolkien.** References to the Silvan elf, Mithrellas, can be found in these places in the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, that have been edited by his son, Christopher Tolkien:

- J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.) _Unfinished Tales_, "The History of Galadriel and Celeborn"

- J.R.R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien (ed.) _The Peoples of Middle Earth,_ "The Heirs of Elendil", pgs. 220-222

Please refer to the AN at the top of Chapter 4 for more info on where the name Mithrellas came from and _why I chose this name and why it made sense to me._

I spent forever having a debate in my head over whether to include Tom Bombadil and all the Barrow Downs scenes. _Forever_, I tell you! But, the part of my brain that was rooting for plot-purposes won against the other side of my brain who rooted for some Bombadil action. And, personally? I like the action (and mushrooms) that Peter Jackson added in this sequence of events to the film. But, I must say, I love me some Bombadil and Goldberry.

* * *

Chapter 5- Laughing Through Misty Tears

After they could no longer see or hear the elves, the small company walked back to their camp. Mithrellas was humming, Sam was still in a daze, and Frodo seemed to be deep in thought.

"Mithril?" Frodo said as he walked beside her.

"Hmm?" she paused in humming the song the passing elves had been singing.

"Will you ever go to the Grey Havens?" he asked, eyes shining with curiosity, "To leave Middle Earth?" His question pulled Sam out of his daze and the sandy-haired hobbit looked up at her, curious as well.

Mithrellas smiled at the question and put a hand on both of their curly-haired heads. "When it is my time," she told them. This, however, did not sedate Frodo's curiosity and he stared at her with a cocked head until she crouched down to his level.

"When there is nothing left for me in Middle Earth. When I have nothing else left to do," she assured him, "Only then will I leave."

A bright and easy grin found its way onto Frodo's face and she smiled back at him. She stood, hands clasped behind her back, and continued to walk on without the two hobbits, humming a different song.

"Come along, now," she called back to them, "The dinner Sam prepared for us does smell awfully good!" she said before taking off at an easy run. That comment kicked the hobbits forward and they chased her back to camp.

* * *

Night had finally fallen in the woods and the company of three had eaten their dinner. Now, they simply sat around and stared at the dying flames of their fire. Mithrellas scanned over the two hobbits, who did not appear happy in their current location. She sighed as she lent against a tree.

"You know," she began, glancing up at the two with her dark eyes. "Bree happens to be one of my favorite places in Middle Earth."

"Bree?" Sam snarled his nose, "Why Bree? All that town is good for is collecting dirt from the shoes of all them Outsiders."

Mithril, who had attempted to cheer the two up, now looked rather indignant at that statement. She suddenly slammed her hands on either side of her crossed legs and leaned forward.

"'_Why Bree_?'!" she exclaimed and Sam suddenly looked both afraid and ashamed.

"Why, Bree is this wonderful little town in the middle of nowhere where everything of happening in the world is talked about. Bree isn't just full of men, hobbits live there, might I remind you, some very nice hobbits," she continued in a softer voice. "Bree is where beings from every good sort of inhabitants go. Where all sorts of Outsiders and wanderers, like me, can blend in and somehow feel like we belong. Someplace where we are not shunned for being what we are. We are not stared at like some form of filth."

A still moment filled the campsite. A moment only broken by Frodo taking Mithrellas's hand. She looked over at him and he noticed, with a pang, a flash of heart-breaking sadness on her face. He gave her a small smile.

"You've never really had a home have you, Miss Mithril?" Sam said from across the camp.

Mithrellas thought for a moment. "No, Sam, I haven't really ever had a permanent home, house, or even a hobbit hole. I suppose that Middle Earth is the only home I'll ever know."

"You'll always be welcome in the Shire," Sam told her, as if the Shire was an entirely different world than the whole of Middle Earth. And, in a way, it is.

"Thank you, Sam," she said.

Out of the blue, Frodo chuckled out, "You know what they say, Mithril," she raised an eyebrow at him, "'Home is where the heart is'. No one out there has your heart, do they?"

Mithrellas's eyes widened. _'Oh, no, this again.'_ Over the years she had spent in the Shire, Frodo and his friends, namely a particular pair consisting of a Took and Brandybuck, had started teasing her mercilessly over the topic of love and her falling in it.

Sam chortled along with the dark haired hobbit, "That's right, you haven't fallen in love with any one of them dark and mysterious Rangers have you?"

Mithrellas sagged against the tree again as the two laughed at their joke and continued to have fun at her expense, but she looked on with a smile anyway.

_'I haven't really even had a family to call my own,' _she thought as Frodo shared some of his pipe weed with Sam_, 'I suppose that all these people, my friends, like you two, Frodo and Sam, and Bilbo, Merry, Pippin, a few others, and even that old coot Gandalf...they are my family.'_

She stopped mid-thought to watch one of Frodo's successful smoke rings float away. This initiated a smoke ring-blowing contest between the two.

_'And that's alright.'_

* * *

Mist started to roll in as the elf and the two hobbits prepared for sleep. They rolled out their blankets and used their stuffed packs as pillows. Mithrellas and Frodo settled down quickly, but Sam had a hard time finding a comfortable spot on the ground. Mithrellas had to admit, the ground was hard and there were many roots and branches lying around. However, this worked in her favor. For if someone were to try and sneak up on them, they would surely crack a branch on the ground. She was almost certainly positive that no one would even be in this forest at night. And, being an elf, she could sleep light and be able to sense someone. Nevertheless, she slept with her favorite dagger in her hand and with her sword lying just under the edge of her blanket.

"Everywhere I lie, there's a dirty great root sticking into my back," Sam grumbled, utterly frustrated after shifting around several times.

"Just shut your eyes, and imagine you're back in your own bed," a half-asleep Frodo said, "with a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow."

Sam shot him a skeptical look, but settled back down anyway. He tried to close his eyes and slow his breathing. However, after only a few moments he sighed and sat back up.

"It's not working Mr. Frodo," Sam complained again, "I'm never going to be able to sleep out here."

"Neither am I," Mithrellas loudly whispered, "Not with all the talk that is spewing out of your mouth."

"Me neither, Sam," Frodo dazedly told him, still half-asleep.

Mithrellas snorted from where she lay.

Frodo secretly smiled and Sam, after lightly glaring at Mithrellas's back, found a bit of bread to nibble on. He rolled over on his blanket and stared up at the night sky through the trees.

* * *

Mist slowly but surely descended over the landscape. On a high cliff up above a forest, a black horse neighed and stamped his hooves before standing completely still. His rider, dressed entirely in black, raked its unseen eyes over the forest.

The black figure remained on the horse's back on that same cliff all through the night. Waiting...Just waiting. Neither the figure or the horse seemed to move. Until, the smallest crack of a red dawn appeared over the heavy line of trees. The rider then guided the black horse down from the cliff without a word and set out. Watching...Listening...Just waiting...

* * *

Sam pushed the stiff stalks of corn out of his way before emerging onto a small path in the middle of a large corn field. He looked back and forth, panicking because he wasn't seeing Frodo or Mithril in any direction.

"Mister Frodo? Miss Mithril?" he yelled, panic laced through his voice, "Frodo! Mith-!"

Suddenly, Frodo appeared from around the bend in the path, looking at Sam puzzled. Mithrellas peeked her head around the corner, sword drawn.

"What?" she whispered hurriedly, stealthily and silently moving closer to him over the brittle cornstalks on the ground. She then moved into defensive fighting stance in front of the hobbits, "What is it? What did you see?"

Sam sighed at the sight of both of them. "I thought I'd lost you," he admitted.

Mithrellas looked tiredly down at the blond hobbit. She broke out of her fighting stance and ran her free hand over her face, holding her sword to the side. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep before letting the air out in a sigh.

"What are you talking about?" Frodo asked him.

_'Frodo apparently seems to be unaffected by his gardener's unnecessary panicked noise.' _the elf thought to herself. Mithrellas had been having a feeling growing in the pit of her stomach since she had woken with the red dawn. An uneasy feeling that made her feel that danger of some sort lurked in every shadow. Since they set out from their camp that morning, every alarming noise that came from the hobbits put her on edge. She told herself to blame it on the Ring, but she still could not shake that feeling.

"It's just something Gandalf said," Sam replied to Frodo.

"What did he say?"

"'Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee!'" Sam quoted the wizard, "And I don't mean to."

"Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, amused.

"I have a bad feeling," Mithrellas interjected. She shifted her eyes as she heard two pairs of pounding feet run in their direction and gripped her sword, raising it higher. She slightly shifted out of the way. "I've actually had a bad feeling all morning." Sam moved Frodo behind her.

"We're still in the Shire!" Frodo exclaimed again, exasperated at the two, "What could possibly happen?"

Suddenly, Peregrin Took burst from the cornfield and ran straight into Frodo, toppling them both over. Meriadoc Brandybuck, close behind his counterpart, barreled out and knocked Sam over. Armfuls of vegetables flew through the air and pelted the hobbits.

Mithrellas shook her head at the group, and, once again, ran her hand over her face before sheathing her sword.

Pippin shook his head and pushed himself up slightly and looked down at who he had landed on. "Frodo?" he asked, confused, "Merry!" he said, getting the Brandybuck's attention, "It's Frodo Baggins!" Mithrellas rolled her eyes at him.

"Hello, Frodo!" Merry said excitedly, as he hauled himself off Sam and began to hastily gather vegetables.

"Get off him!" Sam grunted as he shoved Pippin off Frodo, "Frodo? Are you all right?"

"What's the meaning of this, Peregrin? Meriadoc?" Mithrellas spoke up.

Merry and Pippin both snapped up at the sound of her voice and broke out into wide grins.

"Hello, Mithril!" Merry exclaimed before he continued to gather his spilled vegetables.

"Oh, Mithril! Hello! Didn't see you there!" Pippin said excitedly. He waddled over to her because of the amount of vegetables he was holding. "Hold this," he commanded, dumping them into her arms.

"You've been into Farmer Maggot's crop!" Sam accused.

The sudden sounds of a loud dog barking and an angry voice yelling confirmed their actions. Pippin shoved Frodo back into the corn and grabbed onto Mithrellas, who dropped the vegetables, before speeding away. Merry hauled Sam behind him.

"Dunno why he is so upset," Merry pondered out loud as he ran, "It's only a couple of carrots!"

"And some cabbages!" Pippin proudly added, reminding him, "And those few bags of potatoes that we lifted last week and...and the mushrooms the week before!"

"Yes, Pippin!" Merry shouted, cutting him off before he continued and revealed all their thieving occurrences in front of the elf, "My point is, he is clearly overreac-."

"Run!" Mithrellas yelled at them before speeding ahead of them. She saw the edge of a gorge right before she went over and stopped just in time, smiling in relief. '_Good, I don't feel like rolling down a steep bank today anyway,'_ she thought before turning around quickly. She managed to stop Pippin, Frodo, and Merry before the three sent them all over.

"Sam!" she yelled at the hobbit as he came running toward them. Sam, however, didn't pay any attention as he was looking over his shoulder. He slammed into the unbalanced group and sent them all over the edge of the steep gorge. They rolled down wildly at high speeds and rammed into each other on the way down. Reaching the bottom, they ended up piled in a tangled heap, spitting out groans and bits of forest from their mouths.

"Ooh! That was close," Pippin commented, seeing that he had barely missed a large pile of manure.

"Oww!" Merry groaned, "I think I've broken somethin'," he said, pulling out a large broken carrot from under his back.

"Samwise!" the muffled voice of Mithrellas yelled from the bottom of the pile of heavy hobbits. Frodo rolled himself out of the heap of hobbits and dusted himself off.

"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!" Sam muttered as he picked himself off of the heap.

"What?" Merry argued, "That was just a detour, a shortcut."

"Some shortcut," Mithrellas's muffled voice grumbled out, still stuck under a Took and a Brandybuck. Merry finally noticed her and carefully scrambled off.

"A shortcut to what?" Sam asked accusingly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Mushrooms!" Pippin shouted, getting excited again as he spotted a large cluster a few feet away. He scrambled off the elf he had been squishing, kicking her several times in the process, and rushed to get to them first. Sam and Merry rushed off as well, but Frodo walked out to the middle of the road.

Mithrellas, no longer being laid upon by hobbits, got up from the ground and stretched. She noticed Frodo looking strangely down the road and walked over to him. As she reached him, the familiar uneasy feeling came back and hit her twice as hard. It was quiet, on this lonely road in the middle of the forest. As if the birds didn't dare to sing and the trees were too scared to move their leaves. Usually Mithrellas could enjoy this kind of silence, but this was different. Something was off.

"Frodo?" she attempted to divert his attention, but instead she too began to look down the road, her elf eyes scanning as far as she could see.

"I think we should get off the road," Frodo called to the other hobbits.

Mithrellas' ears perked as she heard something. _'Hoof beats!' _she realized, _'Coming towards us!'_

"Get off the road!" she commanded the hobbits and grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, "Quick!"

All the hobbits listened this time and crossed the road where Mithrellas helped them get below an overhanging root from a large, gnarled tree. She herself hurriedly glanced down the road once more where the hoof beats became louder, thundering nearer to them every second. Her eyes frantically shot around, looking for a place to hide herself. If she had been alone, she would have ambushed whoever came up the road, should they be an enemy. But this was not the case and she was now responsible for four other lives. There was also the Ring to worry about, if it fell into the wrong hands...

She made a split-second decision and grasped the gnarled tree's thick bark, using its knots as handholds. She shimmied up to a decent sized knot to place her feet on and quickly balanced herself. Down below, she heard Sam shushing the others as the rider and horse silently drew closer to the large root that hid the hobbits. She peeked from around the tree to watch the rider and then froze. She suddenly recognized what rode on the black horse, a Black Rider, one of the Nazgûl. They were once kings of men who fell to Sauron's power and were given near-immortality as Ringwraiths, servants who were forever bound to the power of the Ring.

The Wraith had stopped directly beside the old tree that hid five lives from its dead eyes. Looking down to check on the hobbits, Mithrellas met Frodo's eyes briefly before the Wraith, cloaked and hooded in black, dismounted the deranged horse with a loud clang of armor. It approached the tree root and leaned over the edge, as if to search for something. The elf in the tree held her breath, begging, _pleading_, to the Valar and all good things left in the world that the wraith did not discover the hobbits. Along with the Ring, for that matter.

Mithrellas knew that it was the wrong circumstances, but she couldn't help herself as she watched Pippin with mild amusement as he jerked his feet away as all sorts of insects and earthworms came out of the dirt and wriggled about.

Down under the overhanging root, Frodo entered a trance and slowly took the Ring out of his pocket. He was so tempted to jam the Ring on his finger as one of his fingers strained towards it. The Ringwraith could sense the Ring now, and he started to sniff the air. Sam looked at Frodo at just the right moment and reached over to stay Frodo's hand. Being startled out of his trance, Frodo jerked the Ring away from his finger and enclosed it in his other hand, holding his own breath. Mithrellas, from her perch, saw Merry throw a bag full of vegetables at an angle out into the forest. The Ringwraith easily fell for the distraction and whirled away to investigate the sound.

Mithrellas took this moment and hopped down. She landed with one leg bent underneath her and the other out to the side, easily catching her weight and keeping the sound of her landing silent. The hobbits were startled at her sudden appearance in front of them and jumped back, briefly mistaking her blur of dark gray cloak and dark leather gear for the Wraith. She motioned for them to move, and they all rushed forward.

After a glance over her shoulder in the direction the Ringwraith had left, the elf silently followed them into the cover of the trees.

* * *

Night had fallen once again as the hobbits ran after the elf who stealthily led them thought the dark forest. The group had spent the last few hours running from behind one tree to the next, trying to keep out of sight of the Black Riders constantly patrolling the area. Mithrellas finally came to a stop behind a rather large tree and waited, completely still, intensely listening and watching. Frodo stood behind the tree nearest her, looking out as well.

"Anythin', Miss Mithril?" Sam breathlessly whispered.

"Nothing," she answered with a even tone, still on guard.

"What is going on?" Pippin said, glancing between Frodo, Sam, and Mithrellas.

"That Black Rider was looking for something…or someone," Merry said, referring to the one they had encountered by the road, "Frodo?"

"Get down!" Mithrellas told them as she spotted a Ringwraith noiselessly emerge from the dense mist. She crouched down behind the tree and watched as all the hobbits quickly laid down on the damp ground. Mithrellas slowly peeked around the tree and watched the Wraith as he seemed to pause a moment before moving on, disappearing again into the mist.

"I have to leave the Shire," Frodo explained in a hushed tone to Merry, "Sam, Mithril, and I must get to Bree."

Mithrellas slunk back and crouched down next to the group of hobbits. "Come along, we are heading to Buckleberry Ferry."

The hobbits all started to take off, but Mithrellas grabbed a hold of Frodo and Sam and yanked them back in front of her.

"Listen you two," looking them seriously in the eye, "I don't think Gandalf expected our journey to Bree to be this dangerous. He also did not expect two other hobbits to be traveling with us. Otherwise, he probably would have come with us," she licked her lips, "If something happens, I want you all to run straight to Bree, as fast as you can. The roads are marked easily enough and the Ferry gets you some distance."

"Mithrellas," Frodo interrupted with narrowed eyes, "What are you saying?"

She ignored his question and continued on, "Frodo, when you reach the Prancing Pony, you must find a man that goes by the name of Strider."

"Mithril!" Frodo interjected again.

"I'm telling you this just in case," she hurriedly assured him, "I'm going off my instincts. Now, go on you two, follow those two misfits to the Ferry and I'll meet you there. I will be guarding you." Frodo shot a worried look at her before he went on.

Sam started to follow him, but Mithrellas caught his shoulder, "I'm counting on you to protect him at any cost. Don't you ever leave him, Samwise Gamgee," she told him with a grim smile. He slowly nodded and followed Frodo. She stared in the direction all the hobbits had left and then threw on her hood and drew her sword, disappearing into the shadows.

The group of hobbits ran their way to Buckleberry ferry, slipping every once and a while on the slick grass. To the side of them in the trees, they suddenly heard the screams of a Black Rider and the clashing of swords. _'Mithrellas...,' _Frodo thought, _"She's protecting us.'_ He tried to not think about the fact that she was facing a Black Rider, merely focusing on the thought of her presence. He tried to not think of the Black Rider at all.

A second Black Rider suddenly appeared in front of the group and shrieked, his horse rearing up on its hind legs. The hobbits dodged the powerful limbs, dashing this way and that. Frodo was the only one delayed as the horse's leg slammed down in front of his path. He looked up as the Black Rider shrieked and saw a dark sword swinging down toward him. As he watched, too horrified to move, another blade, reflecting moonlight, crossed in front of it.

Mithrellas was suddenly there beside him, pressing upwards on the Ringwraith's evil sword with her own. "Go, Frodo!" she yelled at him, "Follow the others!"

He swerved widely around the black horse and tried to catch up with the others who were already reaching the small dock. He jumped a short fence and, once on the other side, prepared to take off at full speed. But, a shrill scream filled his ears as another Black Rider jumped over the fence and the short hobbit's head. The Wraith pulled his horse around to charge at Frodo, who was once again too scared to move. As he drew closer to the hobbit, the Rider pulled back his sword and swung it full force at Frodo's head.

Mithrellas watched Frodo run and jump over the short fence. Another Black Rider ran out of the forest and chased after him, jumping the fence as well. She quickly maneuvered her sword out from under the Wraith's and stabbed it in the arm, her blow was not deep due to the armor they wore. She sliced at the black horse, black blood spewing on her body, and the animal took of wildly. She then frantically ran toward the short fence. She had to protect Frodo. As she drew nearer, she jumped high, over the fence and over the hobbit. She swung her sword in mid-air, knocking the Wraith's sword away from Frodo. As she landed in front of the hobbit, she felt a sting in her right calf, but she had to ignore it as the Ringwraith swung its sword down on her again and she swung her own to block

Frodo, not having to be told this time, took off at full speed toward the Ferry. Merry and Sam were busy uncoiling a mooring rope and Pippin started to push off.

"Frodo!" Sam yelled as the Ferry started to move.

"Run Frodo!" Pippin yelled as he gave the Ferry one last hard shove into the water and jumped on himself.

"Hurry!" Sam encouraged him.

"Jump Frodo!" Merry yelled, "Go on, faster! Jump!" Frodo leaped onto the raft, being caught by his friends. All the hobbits turned to the dock again. They expected to see Mithrellas leaping toward the raft. Instead, they felt sheer terror as they saw her, a little ways from the fence, fighting off five Black Riders.

Mithrellas swung her sword around, blocking a hard blow from a Wraith on one side and attempting to strike at another. A deep pain began to throb up her leg from her right calf, and she tried to not put her weight on it. She spared a glance in the direction of the Buckleberry Ferry to see it slowly moving out into the river. She knew the hobbits were safe for now, however short a time it might be. She again swiped at one of the Wraiths' horses, and more blood splattered onto her. The horse took off running into the forest before she saw the Wraith get his steed under control. He steered the horse back to the circle of Nazgûl surrounding the desperate elf.

Mithrellas slashed at one Nazgûl sword and then blocked, building pressure. She had to move every so often to dodge the swords aimed toward her body. All of a sudden, a blade slapped down on the back of her hand while she dodged two others coming for her head. She hissed and applied a quick burst of pressure to the Nazgûl sword she was currently blocking before she spun away to confront the others. She did not notice the hilt of another sword aimed at her head until it hit her. She fell to the ground hard on her knees and then fell over by being shoved by one of the horses. Trying to see past horses' legs, her eyes frantically waved around and finally found all the hobbits on the Ferry, looking right at her. Tears quickly welled up as she saw the terror that was in all their eyes.

Her tears streamed across her face and fell into her hair. She watched, with wavering eyesight, the Ferry carry the hobbits further away and hopefully to safety. _'I have failed you, Frodo,'_ she thought as the Ringwraiths' horses angrily stamped around her. She still felt the throbbing in her right leg and she finally risked a chance to look at it. A nasty deep wound was pierced into her flesh, blood pouring out all over her leggings and boots. She dodged a horse hoof headed toward her neck and then caught a glimpse of her finely crafted bow lying in the grass. Her bow had escaped from the rope ties which held it to her pack while she had fought the Nazgûl and now laid a few feet away from her. One of the dark hooves of the deranged horses crashed down on her bow and snapped it in half. She felt a pang in her heart as she heard the sound of it breaking and flinched.

Another hoof came pounding down toward her head, and she dodged expertly. But the next hoof hits its mark. She felt a bright burst of pain in her temple before her eyes closed and she went limp. Before her mind slipped away, she vaguely felt the harsh vibrations in the ground as the Ringwraiths galloped away into the darkening mist.

The hobbits stood in a group on the Ferry, all of them in shock. They watched Mithrellas slump to the ground and writhe about, trying to dodge the wild hooves. They watched as one of the Black Riders' horses kick her in the head. They watched as the cold and uncaring Black Riders rode off. Then, they felt another onslaught of terror set in once she lay completely and utterly still.

"Mithrellas!" Merry yelled across the water, expecting her to pop up and laugh saying that she fooled those Black Riders. Merry felt hot tears fall from his eyes when she did not.

"Miss Mithril!" Sam, tears already racing down his cheeks, frantically yelled as she did not seem to stir a bit from Merry's call. Pippin joined in as the three hobbits yelled her name repeatedly.

Frodo was the only one who did not yell. He simply stared through his own tears at her fallen form on the damp grass near the river. So near. He was the only one of the hobbits to notice tears on her face.

_'Elves do not cry without reason...' _he thought. He had never seen Mithrellas cry.

Frodo brought his hands up and laid them on Sam and Pippin's shoulders. They immediately stopped yelling the elf's name and looked at him. Merry, realizing the other two had gone silent, looked over and locked watery gazes with Frodo.

Frodo took a deep and shuddering breath, "She has fallen," he said in a thick voice. Merry whipped his head over to continue his stare at the elf, willing her to_ get up. _

"She wanted us to go on, should something happen to her," he took a pause to look at his friends. He was to get them to Bree now. He had to continue on, no matter how much he wanted to swim back over to Mithrellas. He had something to take care of.

All of the hobbits looked over to the dark bank. They all stared as the crumpled form of their friend grew smaller and harder to see with the thick mist setting in. They all stared until they could no longer see the shore.

"How far to the nearest crossing?" Frodo asked, still in a thick voice.

"Brandywine Bridge," Merry replied, still staring into the mist, "Twenty miles."

Mithrellas was unconscious on the cold, damp ground. Her arms and long legs were spread out oddly. Her golden hair had escaped from its tight braid and was now slung out wildly around her bruised head. Her sword laid several feet away from her, covered in black blood. Hot, bright red blood of her own slipped from the deep wound on her calf to the cold and trampled ground.

Tears still fell from her unconscious eyes.

_'Elves do not cry without reason...'_

My idea of what Mithrellas's sword looks like? Check my profile for a link! (Not exactly like Arwen's, just the shape.)


End file.
